d o r m a n t
stream of consciousness
seeds of inspiration
wound tightly in my mind
stiffened vines entangle buds
pining to unwind
strangled thoughts
muted words
desperate to rise up for a breath
ideas clashing
conceptions thrashing
in the frozen depths they meet their death
mutterings riding frigid winds
graze against my ear
struggling to take them in
a decibel below what i can hear
staring in the murky distance
grasping at a silent void
sparks of inspiration turn to ash
before the flame can be enjoyed
parched tongue begins to crumble
words form and disappear
is this a chrysalis of creation
is metamorphosis near
disassembled thoughts
cocooned inside my brain
every attempt to draw them out
is an effort made in vain
winter has left me dormant
ideas imprisoned by the freeze
sluggish words await the thaw
longing to be freed
About the Creator
Kristen Balyeat
Words fly to me on the wind, bump into me as I'm strolling the city, splash me in the face while I rest by the river, and shake me awake in the middle of the night– I’m humbly one of the many vessels they use to come to life.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
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More stories from Kristen Balyeat and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis7 days ago in Humans
Comments (35)
Have you been thawed yet? I missed this earlier but happy to read now! Congrats on your leaderboard placement and top story too! Hoping I go to your page and there’s another twenty poems since! Let me check! :) Excellent work Kristen. 😊
Engaging and expertly written, your story held my attention, leaving me eagerly anticipating what happens next. The way you skillfully blended emotions and suspense makes it a truly captivating experience. Please take a moment to read my work as well!
Back to say, hot diggidy, she's done it - Congrats on another fine Top Story, Kristen!
'Tis the butterfly's struggle to escape the cocoon that fills out its wings & allows it to fly. You're not dormant, Kristen. You're filling out your wings.
Well now. These words melted onto the page! Lovely and relatable. 🥰
Great concept and wonderful poem!
Congrats on Top Story! You can feel the urgency and desperation here.
Congratulations on top story!
Absolutely fantastic!
So gorgeous as always, Kristen! And so relatable. Although this is full of so much longing, it is full of inspiration as well! Amazing job and congrats on Top Story! 🤗
This was awesome and so true. Wait! What was I going to say? Oh yeah, GREAT JOB!! congratulations on TS status
Well done! Keep pushing forward with your excellent work—congrats!
incredible work
This is so wonderful and seriously resonates. Gorgeous work. Congratulations on Top Story!
What "The Invisible Writer" said.
You captured the essence in beautiful words woven together. 'grasping at a silent void sparks of inspiration turn to ash before the flame can be enjoyed' just pure emotion. Congratulations
Yes 🙌🏼🙌🏼 right there with u. I’d say u did it here tho!!
Awww, let me give you a big warn hug to thaw it all out and make those words flow out smoothly! 🥰🥰🥰 Loved your poem! Congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Congrats for top story Kristen!
Very engaging and lifelike. I felt like the MC as the words raced down the page. Awesome effect! And congrats, Kristen!
I feel that your ideas definitely have not been frozen because you’re still releasing gold like this soooo 👌
Back to say congrats on the TS.
So glad this ended up on the main page!! Congrats :)
I felt this. What I wouldn't give for a nice, warm wind... You are so good at "stream of consciousness" writing! And it's a Top Story! Well done!
Fickle, frosty creative blocks! So relatable. I love that you've invoked every sense here—the chill, sounds too quiet to hear, the vision of vines entangling the mind, the tongue crumbling to ash—there's so much for the reader to absorb and immerse themselves in, I'm totally "in it" with you! Really beautifully done. 💕